The Iron Teeth: A Goblin's Tale - From RoyalRoadl.com by ClearMadness

Rolling the Dice 6

Blacknail smiled as his knife opened the helpless man's throat. Blood poured out of the raw jagged wound and spilled down his chest. The man's body jerked and twitched but the hobgoblin held it still. A few seconds later, he went limp and Blacknail let the body fall.

With an annoyed sigh, the hobgoblin bent over and began to roll the corpse over into a nearby clump of bushes, where it would be hidden. When that was done, he scuffed the dirt with his boot to conceal the blood trail. Cleaning up after himself was always such a pain.

This was the second sentry he'd taken out today, and it was probably far from the last. There were undoubtedly a few more around the perimeter of the enemy camp.

A lot of humans seemed to think that if they simply had lots of guards everywhere it would make up for the fact that they were all incompetent. It didn't work that way.

The forest around Blacknail was full of thick green vegetation, and small hills lay scattered in every direction. This made spotting people difficult and hiding easy. To keep one step ahead of his prey the hobgoblin needed a better view.

Quickly, Blacknail pulled his boots and socks off. He took a second to wiggle his toes and flex his fingers before sinking his claws into the bark of a tall tree beside him. Then, he began to climb up into the higher branches to find a vantage point.

The tree swayed ever so slightly in the wind once he got higher but that didn't bother him. Up there among the leaves, Blacknail made himself comfortable and looked around. His flexible light body gave him excellent balance.

Herad, Blacknail's great and deadly chieftain, had ordered the hobgoblin to head out and scout around the base Werrick's men had set up. The other bandit chieftain's encroachment on her territory would be met with blood and fire.

Blacknail had spent two days skulking around the forest by himself to get all the information his mistress had wanted. He'd been told to avoid being seen at all costs, and he hadn't even been allowed to kill anyone!

This was the North! Who would notice one or two missing humans? There were hundreds of ways they could have gotten themselves killed or vanished. Most humans were so dumb Blacknail was constantly surprised they lived long enough to breed.

Well, that was the past. He certainly had permission to kill now. The time for scouting was over. Herad's attack was underway.

Blacknail balanced on a long branch as he studied the terrain below him. From his high perch, he could see the steep hill that concealed the enemy camp. It looked like the way there was clear. However, a pair of Werrick's men stood off some distance to his left.

"Hmm, difficult," Blacknail mused.

It was practically impossible for someone to take down two sentries by himself without making any noise, and that meant it was sort of difficult even for Blacknail. The hobgoblin preferred easier targets, though. Why work hard?

With this in mind, Blacknail swung below the branch he was sitting on and climbed back down the tree. Once on the ground, he brought his fingers up to his lips and whistled. The sharp cry of a bird echoed out through the forest as he blew.

A few moments later, an answering bird call rang out from the wild greenery around him. Blacknail smiled as Saeter slipped out of the forest and walked over.

The old scout was dressed in brown leathers with a dirty green cloak. He held a bow in his hands and there was a full quiver on his back.

"We're all clear here?" Saeter asked.

"Yes-ss, there are no enemies around-ss until we get closer to their camp," Blacknail replied eagerly.

"Good, then let's go together in case we run into a larger group," his master suggested.